


Vitamin A.

by Basingstoke



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-05-01
Updated: 2007-05-01
Packaged: 2017-10-02 17:37:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Basingstoke/pseuds/Basingstoke





	Vitamin A.

Dr. Owen Harper started on a Monday. Once on Monday, thrice on Tuesday, five times on Wednesday, and every half an hour on Thursday, Jack had to step in, stop the squabbling, and separate Suzie and Owen, which led inevitably to Owen calling Jack a poof and trying to start a fight with him.

He didn't really have any disciplinary tools, he was coming to realize. On Tuesday, he locked Owen out of all the video games on his terminal, and on Wednesday, he took away Owen's regular desk chair and gave him an uncomfortable wooden one, but neither action had any real result.

Friday, Jack decided it was time to try something new, and declined to step in. When Suzie came into his office at ten in the morning, murder in her eyes, he gave her the rest of the day off.

At 10:04, Owen came in and bitched about not getting the day off as well. Jack smiled and pointed back at Owen's desk, telling him to do his job.

At 10:42, Owen paged him to complain about the completely inadequate medical facilities. Jack reminded him that the forms had been sent in and the new gear would arrive when it arrived, so until then he should do his job.

Between 10:51 and 11:18, Owen sent him a series of emails complaining about the lack of a secretary to get him his coffee. The first time, Jack told him they only had funding for three people at the moment, but he could feel free to make his own damn coffee at any time. He ignored the other twenty emails.

Then Owen started throwing pens at the pterodactyl. Jack paged him once to tell him to knock it off and *do his job,* then let it lie for another ten minutes.

At 12:02, Jack walked out of his office and pushed Owen face-down on his own desk. "You just exhausted my patience," Jack said.

Owen glared up at him sideways. The muscles in his jaw twitched as he clenched his teeth and curled his lip. "Oh, I'm fired then, am I? On the dole again? Let me get my coat," Owen sneered, muffled by the desktop.

"You taunt my best girl. You throw things at my pet. You ignore me in the middle of an ongoing fight against the Rift. I'm not just going to fire you," Jack said. Owen had his arms under him and was pushing up, but Jack outweighed him by fifty pounds at least and knew how to use it. It wasn't even a struggle. "I'm getting something out of this wretched week first."

For the first time since he'd started, Owen looked something other than arrogant. "What?"

"If I fire you, I have to Retcon you. Torchwood regulations. So I might as well get something out of this week. I'm going to beat you with my belt."

"What!" Owen elbowed him in the chest. Jack took it and didn't budge. "Are you seriously--what the hell are you playing at? Let me up!"

Jack didn't say anything. He sidestepped when Owen kicked out with his foot; Owen telegraphed the move way in advance. Not much of a fighter, Dr. Harper. Jack picked him up by the back of his collar and tossed him down flat on the metal floor. "You crazy bastard!" Owen yelled. Jack put a knee on his back and a hand between his shoulder blades and pinned him, though Owen flailed with everything he had.

Jack unbuckled his belt with his other hand. When he pulled it through the loops with a hiss, Owen shut up. Jack leaned over him and met his eyes.

"You're not," Owen said. There was a wild look in his eye. "I'll press charges."

"You won't remember," Jack said.

"Don't," Owen said.

"You don't have any leverage," Jack said.

"Please," Owen hissed.

"Suzie asked you nicely too," Jack said.

"You are not beating me with a fucking belt!" Owen yelled.

Jack brought the belt down across his ass and Owen howled. The pterodactyl screeched back. "You bastard! You crazy fucker! You hit me!" Owen shouted.

"Told you I would," Jack said. "And now I'm doing it again." He rewrapped the belt around his hand as Owen struggled to buck him off, then snapped the belt across Owen's ass again.

"Jesus Christ," Owen said. His voice was high and tight in his throat. He was tense under Jack's hand, trembling.

"This is serious. This isn't a game."

"Too fucking right!" Owen tried to get his knee under him and buck him off, but couldn't generate enough thrust.

Jack brought the belt down a third time and Owen groaned and beat his fist against the floor, his eyes screwed shut. "What do you want!" he yelled.

"Nothing," Jack said. He hit Owen a fourth time, and a fifth, and by then, the man was shaking so hard that his fingernails rattled against the floor.

Jack met his eyes again and Owen's breath quickened, but he didn't say anything; he just glanced up quickly and closed his eyes again. Jack could feel the blood pounding through his throat.

"I could do this all day," Jack said. "It's barely lunchtime."

Owen panted harshly, his breath fogging the metal. He clenched his teeth and swallowed. "Come on, then. I'm starting to enjoy it."

Jack leaned over, smelling the sharp scent of fear-sweat on his skin, looking at the damp marks his fingers left on the floor. "No, you're not," Jack said.

Owen opened his eyes. "I could."

"Huh," Jack said. He hadn't expected that. How very *Jack* of him.

"Go someplace more comfortable."

Jack grinned. "That line would work better if I hadn't used it myself. But sure, let's see what you do." He took his weight off Owen and settled back into a crouch.

Owen got a foot under him, shot out from Jack's hold, and ran for the door, which wasn't locked. He wasn't running very fast, of course, but Jack didn't chase him. Instead, he stood up and threaded his belt back around his waist.

About three minutes later, he received a call. "What happens now? You stalk me, tranq me? I forget everything?" Owen asked.

"Basically, yeah."

"Fuck," Owen spit. He was silent for a moment, and Jack let him stew. "I'm coming back in," Owen said.

"Mm, but I don't want you in."

"Fuck! Fuck you! I want to work there. I want to see the sodding aliens and patch up your wretched skin."

"How badly?" Jack asked.

"Very badly."

Jack paused to dust off his trousers. He switched on the cameras in the Plass and found Owen immediately; he was leaning against on of the pillars, with his head and his free hand pressed against the stone. He could hear Owen breathing, slowly but loudly, with a slight hitch, not quite a sob. "Come on back," Jack said.

Owen returned limping, subdued, and intense. He leaned against Jack's desk and they stared at each other. Jack took the back of his head and pulled him a little closer, until their hair nearly touched. Owen shuddered under his hand.

"I'm ex-military," Jack said.

"Which army? Attila the fucking Hun?"

"Listen to me," Jack said sharply.

"I am." And Owen's teeth were gritted, but his eyes were firmly focused on Jack.

"You can think whatever the hell you want about me, but *do what I say* or we'll do this dance again. What we do here matters. What you do matters. People die because of the Rift and what it brings, and we're the front line."

Owen nodded.

"Dismissed. Go home, come back Monday ready to work." Jack let go of his head. Owen paused for a moment, looking like he wanted to ask something; Jack waited, expectantly, but Owen just turned and walked out of the Hub.

Jack emailed Suzie, telling her that he'd had a little chat with Owen and things should be settled.

The weekend was quiet; just some Rift debris in Splott that Jack dealt with himself. On Monday, Suzie and Owen both trickled in more or less on time. Owen made coffee and brought Jack and Suzie both a cup without comment.

Suzie made a spluttering noise. "This is awful. What did you do to it?"

Jack took a sip and spit it back in the mug. "Owen, you know it's made from beans, right? Coffee beans, not lima beans?"

Owen raised his chin and spread his arms. "Secretary. That's all I'm saying."

"Can I dock your pay for their wages?" Jack asked.

"...No."

"Then I'm going to Starbucks. Do either of you want a muffin?" Jack got his coat.

"Blueberry," Suzie said.

"I want a cookie," Owen said.

When he got back, he set Owen's latte and cookie on his desk beside him. "Carrot and stick, eh?" Owen muttered without looking up from the work on his screen.

"It works," Jack said.

The End.


End file.
